


Water Colour Wings

by Klainetrainunicorn



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Art, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kinky Painting, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Nakedness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 14:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7466643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klainetrainunicorn/pseuds/Klainetrainunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Team Free Will settle down, Dean starts painting in his down time. Mainly Cas, also on Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Water Colour Wings

Moments like this were fruitful and frequent now. Between cases they’d take longer breaks, Sam would go out, have fun, and watch movies with girls. Nobody would have guessed that Dean would take the calmer, stereotypical approach to semi-retirement. And when he started painting and sketching and Cas and Sam had returned with Chinese food to find his sketch book open on the table, filled mainly with Cas, Sam had teased him endlessly. Cas on the other hand, had gone out and bought him endless supplies, paint, charcoal, pastels. Anything he though Dean might use.  
It became Cas’ favourite thing to catch Dean in the throes of his art. There was nothing as raw and beautiful. Except maybe Dean in the throes of an orgasm. But right now, the latter had already been realised.  
Dean’s fingers ran the expanse of sun kissed skin that covered his back, Cas arched in response as the artist considered his body, the lines, the colours the hues. Dean hummed deep in his throat and sat back against Cas’ calves.  
“Sizing up your canvas?” he murmured, eyes lidded and pupils still swallowing most of the blue.  
“Mm.”  
The man perched above him graced the top of his spine with his lips and leaned to the side, just next to the bed, he flipped open the already unlocked water colour pallet and reached for the brush left in the murky water cup.  
“M-stop wriggling…” Cas grumbled. Dean rolled his eyes as he swirled the brush in electric blue and he wiggled on the other just to make him groan.  
When he did, Dean chuckled and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “You came three times tonight Cas, you can afford me some time to do somethin’ like this right?”  
Cas purred at the memory, and as the warm wet heat of Dean’s tongue tracing the shell of his ear. He just hummed a barley comprehensible agreement and Dean kissed the corner of his lips as a thank you.  
“This might be cold baby…” he whispered and indeed the smaller man twitched at the first brush of liquid over his back.  
The brush made patterns, curves, swirls, but Castiel couldn’t quiet decide what it was that Dean was creating.  
“Dean…”  
“Shh…” he soothed, but in a atone that Cas knew was deep concentration, one that let him know that for now his questions would remain unanswered.  
The angel just let his head flow back onto the pillow.  
“Shush…” Dean repeated under his breath to seemingly nobody.  
Cas felt the overwhelming need to turn over and kiss him and to bring him back down and make him make love to him again. But the man kept moving and shifting to add more colours so he was afraid to throw him off.  
Finally, with a soft and gentle flick Dean’s voice flooded his ears, rough from disuse.  
“Pass me my phone Cas…”  
“Why would…”  
“Trust me beautiful…” he hummed  
The pet name as always melted his resolve and he stretched to the bed side table and handed it back.  
“Dean I don’t know if I’m comfortable with…I’m naked.”  
“This is just for us Cas…just for us.”  
Cas let out a breath between a huff and a sigh and allowed Dean to snap a picture.  
There was a soft laugh behind him.  
“What? Do I look unsatisfactory…Dean?”  
“You’re freaking beautiful…”  
The tone was quiet but feverish and he settled the curves of his front, moulding them to the curves of Cas’ back, pressing the design onto his chest. One hand caressed his side and the other held the screen in front of his face.  
Cas blushed roses over his cheekbones.  
It was his back, and his bare ass bracketed by Dean’s legs and over his shoulder blades were painted a set of gorgeous wings, in violets and blues and each of the bottom feathers tapered off into a track of fallout water droplets.  
“What dya think?” he asked pressing his stubble rough jaw and soft cheek to his own.  
Cas’ breath was caught in his throat.  
“I’m…” he trailed off unable to find the correct words. So Dean, (though he would admit it) out of his self-doubt explained.  
“I sometimes just wonder what they look like you know? But then I imagine they kind of look like you, or not like you but like…how you are…inside and I just…see you like this you know…it would probably be better if I went on got the silvers and crap but…”  
“Dean…”  
He paused.  
“They’re beautiful…so beautiful. Is that how you see me, Dean? Honestly?”  
“I…yeah.”  
Cas wiggled underneath him and Dean lifted his body so he could roll on his back and smudge the sheets.  
“Hey…” Dean chuckled.  
Cas smiled a wide luminous smile. “Hello.” And after a beat. “Please may you make love to me again.”  
Dean laughed and kissed his bitten lips soft and quick.  
“Someone’s got their horn on tonight.”  
“For the sake of your art…” he pretended to lament.  
“Oh is that what it’s for huh?” he teased in a growl fingers attacking and tickling his sides. Who knew angels were ticklish.  
Laughter sang from the room and made it all the way down to the Library, Sam rolled his eyes from there. And manoeuvred the blonde he was taking to movies, out of the door before things got real weird.


End file.
